


Peaky Blinders: A collection

by graceC



Category: Peaky Blinders
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, some borderline smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceC/pseuds/graceC





	1. Chapter 1

Summary: You’ve always been around the Shelby’s, though you were younger than most of them. You were 21, making you quiet a few years younger than John, and a few years older than Finn. You even had a thing with John for a while, before he married Esme, but now another member of the Shelby family has your eye.   
A/n- this is a little all over the place for literally no reason, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! 

Warnings: Cursing, confident reader, sexual content (Rape jokes! not by any of the boys ovbs) , violence. The word Gypsy being used as a slur. Gypsy! reader. Basically everything you’d find in an episode!   
Your dress: 

Y/n sat in the Garrison, a whiskey in her left hand as she surveyed the room. John and Arthur sat at a table to her left, laughing, quite obviously already drunk. Micheal, Finn, and Isiah, she knew, were in the private room, off to her right. Y/n sipped her drink as she stood, and made her way to the right.   
Y/n pulled open the door, and watched in amusement as the three boys jumped away from the able, and tried to subtly brush the table off.   
“Oi, Y/n, gave us freight!” Isaiah exclaimed, relaxing in his seat once more, “Thought you were one of the boys.”   
Y/n closed the door behind her, and leaned against it casually,   
“I wouldn’t worry about them, if I were you. John and Arthur are already smashed, and the lord only knows where Tommy has gotten too.” Y/n told them, and she could see all of them relax further.   
Y/n could feel a gaze burning into the side of her face, as Isaiah and Finn started bantering again. Y/n turned her head, and found Michael’s eyes. They were unique, she noticed.   
Not quite the same color as any of his cousins, but the blue still captivated her. Just as John’s had, a few years prior. They didn’t hold the same intensity as Tommy’s, nor the mischief of John’s; and they lacked the anger lurking behind Arthur’s. But somehow, Michael’s eyes were a mixture of all three.   
Michael’s lips curved up into a smirk, and he leaned his head back against the booth, but continued to watch Y/n through hooded eyes. His eyes left yours and wondered up and down her body.   
When his gaze returned to her face, a matching smirk was painted on her lips.   
Michael brought his cigarette back up to his lips, and he definitely noticed that Y/n’s eyes followed the action. He lowered his hand, and breathed out.   
Y/n’s teeth grazed her bottom lip. His eyes followed. They darkened with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.   
“Y/n.” Finn said, and she peeled her eyes away from Michael, and too Finn, “You want some?” She knew what he was referring too. Y/n shook her head, and Finn shrugged, before pouring some Tokyo onto the table.   
“You don’t do it?” Michael spoke up, she met his eyes once again, and smirked.   
“Sometimes.” She responded, noticing his eyebrows raise with curiosity, “Just not tonight.”   
“Why?” Y/n was aware that her and Michael had caught Finn and Isaiah’s attention.   
“I’ve things to do tonight. Tommy’s orders.” Y/n placed a cigarette between her red lips, leaning down when Isaiah offered his lighter. She breathed in, and then out.   
“Well, thanks for the entertainment, boys.” Y/n handed her cigarette to Finn, and reached down to the skirt of her dress, before pulling harshly. It gave away easily, and out of instinct all the boys looked away. Y/n snorted,   
“Calm down.” They all turned back to her, finding that now she was clad in only the top part of her dress, that was now hanging freely, and a pair of fairly tight fitting pants. Y/n handed the skirt to Finn,   
“Take that back to the house when you go home.” Finn nodded, and placed the fabric on the seat next to him. Y/n turned to leave the private room, when Michael spoke,   
“Good luck.” Y/n looked over her shoulder, and threw him a wink. 

Y/n ran along the rooftops, trailing a group of people, who for whatever reason, had caught Tommy’s attention. Her footsteps were silent as she jumped off of the rooftop, and landed behind the men, as they walked into a warehouse. She followed.   
“Well, well, well boys.” The leader drawled, “Look what we have here.” Y/n spun around to face him, her eyes flashing in alarm. She had been found out.   
“What ever could we have done to attract Thomas Shelby’s attention?” The leader questioned sarcastically, “That he would send his precious shadow after us?”   
“Can we have some fun with her, boss?” One of the men asked, and Y/n swallowed.   
“No, let her go.” The leader responded, shocking Y/n, “Let her tell Tommy she failed.”   
Y/n gritted her teeth, but turned to leave.   
“And tell him that I’m sick and fucking tired of you Gypsy’s interfering with my business!” The leader yelled after her. Y/n froze, rage flowed through every fiber of her being.   
“Aw, does Shadow not like the G word?” One of them men called, “Gypsy scum!” They all laughed. Y/n locked her jaw and reached for her dagger, hiding in the elastic of her pants. She turned to them, and gave them only enough time to register the rage in her eyes, before launching at them.   
She tore through the room like the men were nothing but stalks of wheat, and within 10 minutes, all of them except of the leader were dead.   
“Fucking bitch!” He screamed at her from his place on his knees, “Fucking gypsy bitch!”   
That’s when Y/n lost her control. She brought down her dagger on his face, and then did it again, and again, and again, and again, and again. She didn’t hear him screaming, begging for his life. She just brought her arm down again, and again, and again, until the man fell backwards, and he was unrecognizable.   
Y/n stood over the body for minutes, or it may have been hours, she didn’t really know, breathing heavily; when the door opened. She barely acknowledged the Blinders who pilled in the room, and then stopped to stare at her bloodied body. It’s when she saw Tommy that it dawned on her what she’d done.   
Tommy walked towards her slowly, his hands outreached slightly. She saw the concern dancing in his eyes, and her grip on her dagger loosened. She heard the clatter of the knife, and her knees gave out. Tommy reached her in time to grab her by the waist, and hold her up.   
“Y/n?’ He asked, brushing her hair out of her face. She didn’t say anything. Tommy’s brow creased, and he bent down slightly. He placed an arm behind her head and one behind her knees, and then he swooped her up into her arms.   
“Clean this up!” He said to his men as he walked past, “This didn’t happen.”   
Y/n didn’t know when she fell asleep, but the thing she remember was waking up on Polly’s couch.   
She groaned, and sat up warily. She glanced down, and saw she was in nothing but one of Tommy’s white button ups. She glanced at her hands, and saw they were clean. She would have to remember to thank Polly later.   
She stood from the couch, listening carefully to see if anyone else was home.   
“Mornin’.” A voice called from behind her, she jumped and whipped around. Michael sat in the arm chair to the left of the couch she had woken up on, a cigarette dangling from his left hand.   
“Heard you had a hell of a night.” He said, Y/n winced. “All Tommy said was that you lost your temper. And that we wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore.”   
“They deserved it.” Was all Y/n said, her voice rough from sleep. Michael nodded his head to the coffee table, where tea sat. She offered him a small smile, and picked it up, bringing it to her lips.   
“Tommy ask you to watch over me?” Y/n asked, after she had drained half the cup and placed it back on the table.   
“I offered, actually.” Michael responded, taking a deep breath of nicotine. “But he did ask me to hang around all day. Make sure you’re alright.”   
Y/n sighed, but said nothing else.   
“Maybe you want to put some clothes on.” Michael stated, a smirk on his face, as his eyes roamed up and down your body. Y/n shot him a look, before turning and heading upstairs.   
“Not that i’m complaining!” He called after her. Y/n shook her head as she went through the box of clothes Ada had left behind, but a small smile was present on her face. 

Half an hour later, Michael and Y/n were walking to the Garrison. Michael placed his peaky cap atop his head, and Y/n pulled her hair up with a hair band, with razor blades attached. A gift, from Tommy years ago.   
Y/n winced as the blades sliced into her finger. She pulled her finger away from the band and frowned at it. No sooner as she began to reach for her purse, did she feel Michael’s hand on her wrist. She looked at him questioningly. He ignored her, and brought the finger to his lips. Y/n didn’t move or speak as she watched the tip of her finger disappear into his mouth for a split second, and then he dropped her wrist.   
“You should be more careful.” He stated, before turning and walking for the Garrison once more. He looked back when Y/n had remained frozen, that infuriating smirk on his lips, “You comin’?”   
Y/n rolled her eyes, and began walking.   
“So,” Michael started, as they sat down at a table towards the back of the pub, “What do you want to do today?”   
Y/n shot him a smirk. 

It was hours later, and dark now. Michael and Y/n sat in Charlie’s yard, by the canal, on a blanket Y/n had swiped from the stables. Y/n laughed, and didn’t notice as Michael’s eyes lingered on her lips,   
“You didn’t!” She exclaimed, chuckles still falling from her mouth. Michael smiled,   
“Of course I did! What else was I supposed to do?!”   
“Anything but jump out the window!”  
“Her dad had a shotgun!”   
“And you broke your ankle!” Y/n got out between giggles, and Michael laughed along with her,   
“Better than being shot!” Y/n sobered up slightly, though a smile remained on her lips.   
“Well, i guess i owe you one.” Michael forced himself to look up from her lips, confusion evident on his face, “Because if you had gotten shot, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.” Y/n finally noticed Michael’s heavy gaze, and bit down on her bottom lip. Michael’s eyes darkened, and he raised a hand to her lips, where he pulled it from between her teeth.   
“Don’t.” His voice was low, and husky. A shiver shot up Y/n’s spine when he didn’t remove his hand, “Because if i start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”   
Y/n’s breathing stuttered. Her eyes locked onto Michael’s, she leaned forward slightly,   
“Start.” It was all Michael needed before he pulled Y/n onto his lap, and crashed his lips to hers. His hands holding her face as he kissed her feverently, Y/n’s own hands resting on his thighs. Michael swiped his tongue across Y/n lips, she parted her lips slightly, giving him access. A moan came from the back of Y/n’s throat as Michael explored every inch of her mouth. The sound seemed to spur Michael on as he gently pushed Y/n backwards, keeping his lips locked on hers as he laid her on the blanket.  
He only pulled away when the burn for oxygen became too much, and even then he continued trailing his lips across Y/n’s throat. She panted, both from lack of oxygen and the feeling of his lips going up and down, and he continued, repeating the action over and over again, as if looking for something.   
He found it when he heard her breathing hitch, and he attacked the spot, biting, licking and sucking on her sweet spot. He succeeded in pulling another moan from her lips before he pulled back,   
“Your sure?” He asked, his voice enough to make Y/n shutter. She nodded slightly, and he placed his mouth over hers once again, his hands working on unbuttoning his suit jacket. Y/n trailed her hands up to his shoulders, and pushed the jacket off. Her hands finding a final resting place at the back of the neck.   
Slowly but surely the pile of clothes grew until there was nothing left to take off. Michael placed his lips directly below her ear,   
“What’s my name?” He whispered into her skin, her eyes rolled back.   
“Michael.” She responded breathlessly, her nails already digging into the back of neck.   
“Good.” He smirked, “Because you’re going to scream it.”


	2. Finn Shelby

A/n- I’m obsessed with the idea of Finn being a sweet, innocent boy around his family but he’s more like a combination of Tommy and John behind their backs. So this is what happened. 

Y/n and Finn had been together since they were 15, and the Shelby family absolutely adored the pair of them.   
They thought that Finn and Y/n were perfect for each other. And they were, just not in the way the Shelby’s thought. The only ones who knew how the two really were, was Michael and Isaiah.   
The private room was jam packed full of Shelby’s, and accompanying parties. No one had personal space, and Esme was seated on John’s lap, as was Y/n on Finn’s.   
Finn’s arms were wrapped around Y/n’s waist, and his chin was rested upon her shoulder. The whole room, for a change, was laughing, and genuinely having a good time. Finn raised his lips to where they brushed the shell of Y/n’s ear.   
“You know, i recall us being in a very similar position last night?” He whispered. Y/n’s breathing hitched, before she smiled at John, and whatever he was saying, once again.   
“Oi, Finn, Y/n, why don’t you go get us some more whiskey?” Arthur yelled, the others nodded in agreement. Y/n nodded, and rose from Finn’s lap. Finn pushed the door open for her, and followed her out.   
“Hey, Harry.” Y/n greeted the man behind the bar, “Three more bottles please.” Harry nodded and turned to fulfil their order. Finn and Y/n leaned against the bar.   
“Well, just the two we were looking for.” A voice slurred from behind them, “The youngest shelby brat, and his whore.” Finn shared a look with Y/n,   
“One, two, or three?” He asked calmly, Y/n shot him a smirk.   
“Three.” Finn nodded, and at the same time, he and Y/n spun around. Y/n snatched the cap off of Finn’s head, and collided the blades with one of the men’s face. He went down screaming. Finn’s fists met their mark in the nose of one of the others; he went down too. Y/n and Finn trapped the last man between them.   
“You really should really learn some respect.” Y/n said mockingly, and before the man could even open his mouth to respond, Finn broke a glass on the back of his head.   
“Bloody hell!” John exclaimed, from the door of the private room. Y/n brushed the hair out of her face, grabbed the three bottle of Irish whiskey from the counter, and sauntered back towards the room. Finn caught up with her easily, and slung his arm across her shoulders.   
“I love you.” He said, the Shelby smirk present on his face.   
“I know.” Y/n responded, as they reached the door. Finn went in first, and pulled Y/n back onto his lap, she laughed and sat the whiskey on the table. Finn rested his chin on her shoulder once again.   
“That was quite the show.” Tommy commented, breathing out, smoke filtering out of his mouth. Finn shrugged, though Y/n knew there was a smirk on his face.   
The conversation around them slowly continued on, but Finn and Y/n were immersed in their own world.   
“Finn Shelby!” Y/n gasped quietly, swatting his hand away from the hem of her skirt.   
“Yes, love?” He whispered, his lips moving against the skin of her neck, his hand brushing her hip.   
“Not here.” Y/n warned, Finn chuckled quietly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.   
“Sure, darling.” He responded.   
He didn’t stop, all night Y/n batted away Finn’s wandering hands, and didn’t allow his lips to pull her in. But finally, finally, it was over.   
No sooner had she stepped into her flat, had Finn pinned her against the wall, kicking the door closed behind him. His head tucked in the crook of her neck, his lips ghosting over her pulse.   
“How about here, love?” Finn growled, his voice low. Y/n shuttered, but nodded, and Finn kissed her roughly; very different than their first kiss, or even first time, where Finn had been incredibly gentle. It had taken a few times before Finn became comfortable showing this part of himself, the part he hid from his family. The part he got from Tommy. Rough, dominant.   
Finn’s hands gripped Y/n’s thighs, and lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist out of instinct. Finn’s hands rested on her ass as he carried her to their bed.   
He tossed her on the bed, disregarding his hat, shoes, and coat, leaving him in just a white shirt, his suspenders and pants.   
Finn hovered over her, his mouth trailing kisses down her neck and chest,   
“Tonight, darling, is the night the neighbors learn my name.”


	3. War changes People

Y/n didn’t flinch when she squeezed the trigger, she didn’t blink when the blood splattered across her face, she didn’t breath when the body hit the floor. Y/n lowered the gun to her side, and somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was aware of John running towards her, but she didn’t react. Couldn’t.   
John cupped her face, his worried eyes scanning, looking for something. His brow creased,   
“Shit.” He breathed, “Tommy!” He yelled over his shoulder. Y/n felt herself begin to shake, and she still hadn’t breathed. Stars were clouding her vision.   
“TOMMY!” John yelled again, this time with more urgency, as he pulled Y/n closer, “C’mon love, breathe.”   
And then he was gone, replaced with the worried blue eyes of Thomas Shelby. Y/n’s knees buckled; Tommy caught her, and slowly lowered both of them to the floor. Yn’s vision was going black, and her lungs burned. Tommy’s thumb and forefinger grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him,   
“What’s my name?’ He asked firmly.   
“Tommy.” Y/n managed to get out, willing herself to stay conscious.   
“What year is it?” Y/n gasped, air finally making its way into her lungs, in broken segments.   
“1915.” She breathed in again, more air coming in this time.   
“Day of the week?”   
“Thursday.” Y/n was breathing fairly regularly again, and her vision was returning to normal.   
“There you are, love.” Tommy muttered, pulling her against his chest. Y/n could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks as she sobbed into Tommy’s shirt. Tommy pressed his lips to the top of her head,   
“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m here.”   
That was her first kill, and it was five years ago. She was a very different person now. She had seen things, in the war, done things she couldn’t take back. It had tainted her soul, just as it had the boys.   
Y/n stood amongst the Shelby brothers, surveying the room of 10 or so men waiting to take them down. She gripped her gun in one hand, and her dagger in the other.   
“Alright then.” Tommy said, and the four of them launched at the opposing men.   
It only took 20 minutes to finish them off.   
Y/n sat on a table, Tommy standing between her legs with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.   
“You ready?” He asked, Y/n grimaced, but nodded. Tommy dumped the whiskey onto a deep cut on her shoulder. Y/n hissed, and her knuckles turned white against the table.   
“I guess you were right.” John spoke up from the corner, “The war did change us all.”


End file.
